


Mount Up On Wings Like Eagles'

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Scott McCall, BAMF Stiles, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Morally Ambiguous Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-01 17:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13299669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: Happy birthday to my lovely lady!Here's the beginning of my Wing fic for you! Links to the pre-written pieces will be added once We Heart Peter pieces are posted. ♥





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BleedingBlueKunoichi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedingBlueKunoichi/gifts).



> As a pre-reading download for those who don't want to read the pieces, or they simply haven't been posted yet, here's what happens without too many spoilers:  
> I took a different route with the Nogitsune than the show, and in trying to defeat it, the Sheriff died. Stiles is 17 in my storyline and allowed to live on his own. The Sheriff left him the house and a lifetime savings, so Stiles is on his own now.  
> Peter has decided that Lydia, Stiles and Derek went through hell in a dignified manner, and he wants to... 'reward' them. So he approaches each and asks them if they want anything. Lydia brings Allison back, who asks for Scott to be ruined. Derek asked for Kate to die, and he got to officially kill her himself. Stiles asked for Gerard, and tortured and killed him by hand.

“What… what are you saying?” Stiles asked quietly, the pistol still leveled on Peter’s chest. The werewolf was smirking, the bastard.  
“The nogitsune was hard, and then Gerard… I didn't hear most of what he said, but I know he hurt you just by watching how you tortured him. I'm taking you, Lydia, and Allison out for a spa day.”  
Stiles narrowed his eyes, flicking the safety on the weapon and holding it at his side, a hand on his hip. “Why? You already let us all do something we wanted. What's with this… spa day?”  
“I know you're in pain, but I don't know why,” Peter sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “And Allison is still… recuperating. But, she won't do anything without Lydia. They're quite inseparable, it's adorable.”  
Stiles smiled slightly at the mention of his friends, and nodded. “Why are you taking me, though? I'm perfe-”  
“If you say you're fine, I will kill you right now and bring you back to life just to slap you. Don't bullshit with me,” Peter snapped, feeling slightly guilty when Stiles’ eyes went wide. He dropped the werewolf's gaze, his shoulders hunching. Peter could smell the sharp scent of his anxiety. “I'm telling you because I wanted you to plan it. Pick a place, choose the massages. Go all out, and I mean it. But I don't know what you three like from a massage. I was going to drop off my credit card so you could make the deposits on the appointments, and… if you needed anything else.”  
Stiles clenched his jaw, looking up at Peter. “Just because my dad is gone, doesn't mean I need anything from you,” He muttered, the werewolf taken aback as Stiles’ angry scent filled the room in rapid time.  
“I am not saying you aren't capable-”  
“Then don't offer me money!” Stiles snapped, turning from Peter and going back to his kitchen, resuming his dinner.  
“I’m just offering it. I… know what it's like, to try and be alone with none of your family left. All I can offer is money,” Peter said gently, surveying the kitchen, pausing at the alcohol, trying to stuff down some weird pride that Stiles had seemed to leave it alone.  
“No. You can… just be around. Be someone to talk to. You're a much more personable... person than you realize,” Stiles murmured, grabbing an apple and tossing it to Peter, kicking a chair out from under the table for him to sit in.  
Peter stared at the apple in his hands for a second, then looked at the chair, and finally at Stiles again. “You're sure? You know how Scott is going to react.”  
“I'm not a wolf, in his pack, or under his control. He can kiss my ass,” Stiles scoffed, eating some of his squash with the tiniest hint of bitterness available in his expression. That would be a story to learn about later…  
“I'm not used to… people. I don't know how teens talk. I don't even know how people my age talk. Or… how to interact. It's-”  
“-different for everyone,” Stiles interrupted him, smirking slightly. “I don't talk to you like I talk with Isaac.”  
“You also don't have to pretend to be stupid around me,” Peter murmured, trying to hide a prideful smirk when Stiles stiffened for a second. He took a bite from his apple, looking at him with thinly veiled smug grin. “You honestly think I don't know? The only thing Lydia has on you is Latin. But you know more languages than her, still. And you're way above your knowledge level, but you still didn't apply for an honors college or scholarships like you could have. You're… looking at the police academy instead of at an actual college. I still don't know why.”  
“If I don't let people know I'm smart, they won't get used to getting answers from me and then be disappointed if I don't have one at any given time.” Stiles’ voice was small, his fork pushing the remainder of the veggies around his plate. Peter wanted to recoil at the intensity of the guilt that flooded the room, and he took another bite of the apple, hoping his grimace was hidden.  
“There's a story behind that.” It was a statement, not a question, because he knew the answer. There was.  
“You've got to make it to friendship level three to unlock the Tragic Backstory,” Stiles attempted a smile, trying to joke as he finally took another bite of his food. Peter chuckled softly, shaking his head.  
“That's a bit unfair. You know mine.”  
Stiles set his fork down, set his elbows on the table to rest his chin on his folded hands. “I don't know about your…” he paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Spouse. Or what happened with Malia. Everything that happened when you were healing all of those years. Anything about your family before the fire. No family traditions-”  
“Okay, okay. Please stop,” Peter’s voice was strained, clearing his throat before he took another bite of the apple.  
“Sorry, I-that was rude,” Stiles said quietly, sitting back against his chair. “I'm… it'll take me a while to get used to not trying to interrogate you. Especially when you just… let me do what I wanted with Gerard. You wanted to ask. You didn't. And… you could've forced it out of me. Been a dick. But you weren't. Sorry,” Stiles sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair.  
“Don't worry. It's not the worst thing you've done to me,” Peter gave him a small smile, and Stiles returned it, chuckling quietly.  
“Sorry for helping kill you that time.”  
“Sorry for trying to kill you a few times,” Peter murmured, smirking at Stiles’ slightly surprised expression.  
“I know about the Kate thing, but… there were more?” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, his expression moving to match Peter's. “Do tell.”  
“Well, it was only fair, seeing as you've aided in my death before.”  
“Not gonna argue with that, not at all.”  
Stiles was relaxed, listening to Peter with a warm look on his face. And the werewolf was nothing but… the same. Comfortable. Even. Open. _Smiling_.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles had ended up calling Lydia and asking her advice, the two of them finally settling on a couple's massage for her and Allison, and paired massages for him and Peter. Derek had vehemently refused, saying he still had issues with people rubbing their hands up and down his body. It was understandable, so Stiles had decided to make Peter join them. He knew he needed it.

“Why is Lydia telling me you're making me go with you to the massage?” Peter hadn't even waited for a greeting from Stiles, just asked the question right after the phone had been answered.  
“Since when do you and Lydia… talk?” Stiles huffed, slicing up an apple.  
“Since I helped her get her girl back and showed her I'm not just the murderer she thinks I am. I have bits of a heart left. I have the ability to be nice,” Peter huffed. “Now answer my question.”  
“Are you sure it was a question?” Stiles smirked, skewing each of the apple slices before dipping them in chocolate.  
“Yes. I specifically asked you a question.”  
“Before saying ‘hi’. Before I could give you my pun of the day. I'm feeling a little upset and neglected, Peter,” Stiles sighed in mock disappointment, setting the apples on a piece of parchment paper before moving towards the fridge. “I thought we had the friend thing down to a nice rhythm.”  
“It's been four days, Stiles,” Peter snapped, before Stiles heard him sigh through the phone. “What's your goddamn pun?” He muttered after a second of silence.  
“I was just going to tell you tomatoes were called wolf peaches during the Shakespearean era. One of my friends in college told me, said his English professor told the class in lecture today,” Stiles mumbled, shutting the fridge door before leaning against the machinery. “Sorry, I just know you're stressed... about all of the time, so I decided to schedule you for the massage. I'll cancel it.”  
“Don't you dare,” Peter said quickly, and Stiles could hear a loud clattering noise as something fell where Peter was. “I'm going to that goddamn massage.”  
“No need to wolf out, buddy boy,” Stiles couldn't help but laugh quietly, setting a timer on his stove for the apples in the fridge. “Need to clean up? I heard something fall.”  
Peter growled at Stiles half-assedly, the static on the phone so loud Stiles had to pull it away from his ear. “I just managed to spill hot tea on myself.”  
“Ooh, got so defensive about a massage. What's up?”  
“Good night, Stiles,” Peter muttered, the phone call cutting off before he could say anything in response.  
Stiles scowled at the end call screen before angrily typing a message out to Peter.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1/30/18  
> I just want to let everyone know this second chapter was so short because I had originally posted this birthday fic too early, and I don't have the best schedule to get 1k+ words that I like in only four days.  
> I guess this quick author's note is just a simple apology for such a short chapter 2, and a promise that the rest will not be this length.  
> Thank you for all of the kudos and complements so far! I can't wait to see where this piece takes me and you!  
> \- J.M.O.


End file.
